23 Days: Foxface's Story
by District Five Tribute
Summary: Have you ever wondered about what Foxface got up to in the arena? Perhaps there's more to her than meets the eye. From Reaping Day to her death is a matter of 23 days. Read on to discover her motives, influences and personality. It is as accurate as I could make it, based entirely on the book, film and canonical information.
1. Day 1

**Day 1**

Last year, my best friend Volt was reaped for the 73rd Hunger Games. When he died of exposure in the icy cold air during the night of the 9th day, I died too, metaphorically speaking, hearing his cannon fire. I cried all night long. His parents (my adoptive ones) wept too. No-one slept that night. I swear, part of my soul died with his death. I forgot how to live after that. His body was returned and the boy from District 1 went on to win. Volt was still wearing his token. It was the small piece of cobalt I had given him for his birthday one year. No larger than a marble. I had managed to steal it after my shift at one of District 5's refineries. The Gamemakers had interviewed me about that when he reached the top eight. Volt had explained the symbolism of his token to the Capitol during his interview, so they asked me to clarify and to comment.

"My name is Alyssa Cobalt", I told them. "It was a birthday present. I gave him it to remind him of me when we're apart."

Looking back at his death, I'm glad that Volt didn't die at the hands of a tribute or muttation. He died with dignity, defying to let the Capitol cheer at the sight of his blood. That's what he had hoped for anyways.

Nowadays, I don't have many friends.

Today is Reaping Day. I only managed to fall asleep in the early hours of the morning. Now that the light gleams through the small window above my bed, the dread sinks back into my stomach, like clay or cement. Don't get me wrong, I ain't scared of Reaping Day. It's the reminders of last year. All my regrets. Things that I never got to tell Volt. Now that I'm thinking, his murder taught me something. Death is unavoidable. I used to be scared of it, but now I'm fifteen. If I'm reaped, the best that I can hope for is that I die like Volt. Quiet and bloodless and painless. Perhaps I'll have to make sure that that happens.

District 5 may be the best fed of all the non-career districts, but no-one ever lives past fifty. It's the pollution from the power that we generate. The nuclear waste that cause horrific tumors and cancers to appear in people by the time they're in their mid-forties. And chemicals or waste products sometimes leak into the water, so poisoning is a relatively common fate. They've got to chlorinate the water heavily so that we don't get too sick. It makes the water taste like shit though. The whole district stinks of oil too. I usually work in the refineries, fixing machines after school. I'm small enough to get into the hard to reach areas, plus I'm handy with tools, yet that means that I'm usually covered in oil.

I've never had a problem with money. My parents died in a refinery accident when I was five. There were no bodies to bury. I was given a compensation for the death of my parents by the district and then shipped off to an orphanage. By then I also had my parent's money that they left behind. I wasn't in the orphanage for long, just a week or so. Volt's mother wanted a daughter badly, but her work at one of the nuclear power plants had left her barren. They took me home and clothed me, fed me and tucked me into bed each night for ten years. I gave as much as I could. I made sure that there was always enough money so that Volt and I would never have to sign up for tesserae.

Volt's mother enters my room. She's carrying a tray filled with food. A bowl of hot porridge and honey, a roll and a mug of steaming tea.

"What's this?" I ask, sitting up in my bed.

"It's Reaping Day. I thought that it might be nice for you to have something special." A tear slides down her withered cheek. I look away because I can't allow myself to cry too. She gives me a kiss on my forehead and sets the tray on my lap. "I'll get you your dress." She leaves just in time before she bursts into tears.

I eat in silence, trying to block out the sobbing outside. I'm full for once, but the only thing that I can think about is how much this must have cost her. Volt's father is in District 3, repairing some power lines. He won't be back until the end of the month. I've already said my goodbyes to him.

Volt's mother returns with my reaping dress. It is the only thing left of my mother. It was once probably very a beautiful cornflower blue color, but now it's faded, frayed and a bit too small for me. Volt's mother pours me a hot bath with using our precious electricity allowance. She sprinkles a few lavender petals into the steamy water. I soak until the water turns cold, then comb my long, sleek, deep red hair and braid it into a thin plait that frames my point face, long, sharp, snout-like nose and large amber eyes nicely. As a finishing touch I put on the necklace with the agate lightning bolt that Volt gave me in return for the one that I gave him.

"You wanna talk?" Volt's mother asks. I shake my head and we sit and hug and watch the clock until it's 11.30. Even though the Reaping doesn't actually start until 12:15, it would be prudent to be early.

We walk hand-in hand through the narrow streets until we get to the town square. There are already people there and more filing in. Intimidating Peacekeepers roam the area. I give Volt's mother one last squeeze, then I'm ushered to a station where a woman pricks my finger with a needle and takes a sample of my blood.

"Next, please." She calls and lets me past. I wait in line for the Reaping to start. I force my breathing to slow. My palms burst with sweat. I feel claustrophobic with everyone crowding around me. The minutes pass slowly. My eyes dart to the reaping bowls. In the girl's one, my name has been entered 15 times. Alyssa Cobalt. My tokens to death. I'm pretty well off as things go, after all, there are others who don't have a choice but to sign up for tesserae.

Once everyone has arrived, the District 5 escort, Florentina Levis, emerges from the Justice Building. She has such a frivolous name that I let out an involuntary snicker every time I hear or see her name. For these Games she's wearing a spiny, spiky lime green dress and a painfully bright pink feather boa. Her aquamarine hair is styled to represent a thousand bolts of lightning frizzing everywhere and to make matters worse, she has a huge hat with peacock and flamingo feathers balanced on her head that bounces and jiggles every time she takes a step with her tiny feet. The mayor, his wife and all five victors take their place on the platform behind Florentina.

"Good afternoon, District 5! May the Odds be Ever in Your Favor! I'm delighted to be here this glorious afternoon!"

You can tell she isn't and she's not trying to cover up her revulsion. If Volt had won last year, she would probably have been promoted to a Career district. I bet that she'll be pretty surly towards the poor kids who get reaped. Florentina Levis wrinkles her nose at the ever-existent smell of chlorine, petrol and bromine and continues her speech.

"I know you're all excited to find out who will be competing in this year's Games, but I must ask for your attention as we watch a very special film about our country's noble history!"

She turns and gestures to a large screen that has been put in place by the Peacekeepers. The film begins to play, reminding us of the eternal punishment for the uprising and the signing of Treaty of Treason. I've seen this every year, so, like always, I just tune out. The film finishes grandly and Florentina bounces up to the microphone again. Her hat threatens to fly off. I let out a small snigger and several people turn to stare at me. I ignore the eyes.

"Well then, I suppose that there's no point drawing things out any longer. Let us begin, ladies and gentlemen. The honorable and courageous young lady who will represent District 5 is…"

Florentina reaches her jewel encrusted hand into the girl's bowl. You can hear everyone holding their breath.

"Alyssa Cobalt!"

My name rings out across the square, echoing in the silence. A whoosh of sighs resonates from everyone but me. Did I just hear that correctly? Alyssa Cobalt? I'm not sure what to think right now. A woman's scream pierces the air. I block Volt's mother from my thoughts. If I think about her, I'll break down. People stare at me again. My mind recalls how just last year Volt was reaped. I had cried for weeks then. Now, I'll be following almost literally in his footsteps. I wonder if the Capitol will recognize me from the interview. They probably had this whole thing rigged.

I step calmly up to Florentina while she calls for volunteers. Any? Of course not. I am nobody. Eventually I reach the platform and turn on the spot to stare at the entire population of District 5. Suddenly I feel queasy. I hate crowds. Everyone's eyes are fixed upon me.

"Let's see who will be joining Alyssa." Florentina announces. She picks up a name. "Kosynne Watts!"

I laugh, inadvertently, of course. His name is pronounced Cosine, like the mathematical term, but she says Ko-sin, with a short 'o'. Kosynne breaks away from the crowd with a gobsmacked expression on his face. He's in my year and one of the most popular guys at school. And he's always surrounded by a horde of friends and disciples. Now I see that some of the girls have stared to wail and scream. One of them even feels that they have to 'faint from shock'. You know the type. Self-obsessed, whiny and always trying to show off as much skin as they can. Personally, I don't know what they see in Kosynne. He's immature, loud, foul-mouthed and self-righteous. But now, he looks absolutely petrified.

"Congratulations Alyssa and Ko-sin, the tributes from District 5!"

We shake hands awkwardly. He avoids my eyes entirely. I can see him blink away tears. I'm actually pretty proud of myself. I think that I've done a remarkable job handling the news about my own death. But now, staring into a sea of faces that I will never see again and it all sinks in. I am going to the arena. I am going to die.

Florentina leads us into the Justice Building as the anthem finishes. I am led to a small room where family and friends say goodbye. Since I have no friends, I sit on a rickety red chair and twirl the agate necklace nervously. Kosynne must have at least twelve or thirteen people fawning over him at the moment. It makes me jealous. He will be missed, and I won't. It reminds me of when I said goodbye to Volt for the last time. I didn't know what to do, so I just hugged him for ten minutes. Finally, I gave him a kiss goodbye and left without saying a word. Now, I wish that I had said something.

I brace myself for his mother to arrive soaking with tears. I rub my palms together nervously. The door swings open. Volt's mother collapses into my arms. Her chest heaves with sobs and in moments my dress is drenched. She blubbers something inaudible.

"Take the money. Everything that I have is yours." I say.

"I can't lose you. Not after what happened last year. No. Let's run away. Stay here. They can't take you from me, Alyssa."

"Shh. Don't make me cry. I love you. Remember that always. Even after I'm gone. And please be there for Dad when he gets home. You two will need each other."

"I love you more than anything in the whole world, Alyssa. I would do anything to keep you here. You've got to at least try to win.

"Don't worry. It's my intention to."

A Peacekeeper barges in.

"Alyssa. I love you. I will always love you."

"I love you too, Mom."

The Peacekeeper drags Volt's mother away from me. She screams and kicks violently. I hope that they don't hurt her. The door slams and I'm left alone. The room is deathly still.

I'm left alone with my own miserable thoughts. Finally, after what seems like hours, some Peacekeepers arrive and take me to the high-speed train to the Capitol. Theoretically, all tributes are supposed to arrive around the same time so that the Capitol citizens doesn't have to wait, so they have to program the trains to arrive at the same time. District 5 isn't that far away from the Capitol, so we have to wait for some of the other trains to get a head start. Outer districts get faster trains, inner get slower. We should be in the Capitol by late tomorrow morning.

Kosynne looks like he has been crying and he covers this up as we board the silver train. The camera flashes are blinding. Florentina and the other victors who will be our future mentors follow us. The train door slides open and I'm overwhelmed with a wave of warm, aromatic air that smells rich and flavorful, as if I could taste the smell.

"Now, you each have your own compartment of course, but there's also the dining cart, the bar cart and a lounge cart as well as the carts for your mentors and myself. Shall I leave you two to get familiar with the place?" Florentina queries.

I'm too mesmerized to answer. The whole thing is shiny and clean. The luxurious furniture and artistic décor is alien. But the most unusual thing is the food. There's so much of it! An entire table dedicated to little covered pots and trays of pastries. The cupcakes are as candy-colored as the Capitol itself and there are drinks to spare.

Florentina trots off. The Reaping went right through lunch time so I haven't eaten anything yet and I'm hungry. I cautiously pick up a lid off one of the silver pots. It's a deep purple broth that smells sweet and earthy. I let my senses be enticed by the hot steam.

Just then, three men enter. I recognize them as some of District 5's victors. Drunkards, morphling addicts, athletes gone to seed.

"You, boy, come with us. We need to talk". One of them beckons to Kosynne.

"Can't I eat something first?"

"There'll be plenty of food later, boy." They practically drag him away from the food.

I sit down at the table and spoon myself some of the broth, which has chunks potato, beetroot and carrot. It's possibly maybe the most wonderfully satisfying thing I've ever eaten. I finish the first bowl in a minute and ladle myself another one when the door slides open again. The sound makes me jump and I slosh purple juice everywhere on the snow white tablecloth. Florentina will be furious.

The two women ignore this and approach me instead. They're District 5's female victors, and my mentors. The first to sit down opposite me is the tallest woman I've ever seen in my life. She must be at least six-foot five. Her skin is dark brown, like her eyes and her long black curls are thin, greying and limp. She's broad-shouldered, brawny, tough-looking and stinks of alcohol and vomit. Secretly, I mistook her for a man the first time that I saw her. The second woman is about two feet shorter than her, with pale brown skin, yellowed slightly and like the other woman, she has long black hair that hangs limply around her. She probably once had a pretty face though, but now it's somewhat ruined by her sagging skin, heavy lids and deep brown eyes stained yellow. The woman looks weary and exhausted. She's probably of Hispanic origin, but it's hard to tell, since she's so stained with morphling.

"Where's the boy?" demands the taller of the two. I shrug.

"Good. It's probably better if we talk in private anyway." I begin to get up but the shorter woman stops me.

"You can stay and eat if you like." she interrupts me. Her voice is deep and gravelly. "After years of almost constant hunger, the least we can do is wait for you to get some food into you."

They both pull up seats. The taller woman takes a metal canister from her belt and takes a swig of the liquid and sighs. Her breath smells like alcohol and curdles the broth in my stomach.

"Right. First thing's first. I need you to understand that we may try the best that we can, but never get you out of the arena alive. Only when you accept and agree to these terms will we begin your mentoring. You need to listen to everything we tell you and obey all instructions. I've been doing this for 30 years. Trust me, I know what I'm doing." I nod and the tall woman continues. "Good. Now I suppose introductions are needed. I'm Cassandra and this is Corah." Corah nods at the mention of her name in a vague, distant way, as if she's daydreaming. "Who are you?"

"Alyssa Cobalt." I reply.

"Well then Alyssa, eat up. You'll do well to put on some weight before you enter the arena." Cassandra says. She swaps my broth for a plate of fatty, golden pork with a thick gravy, silky mashed potatoes and minted peas while Corah heavily butters several rolls for me. I'm about to object but close my mouth instead. These women are trying to help me. Cassandra helps herself to my broth and ladles some to Corah.

"Eat, Corah." Corah ignores the other woman. She's still in her trance. This is what awaits me if I do win the Games. Blocking out bad memories with alcohol or morphling. Wasting away year after year. Seeing children who I know slaughtered and knowing that there's nothing I can do to stop it. It's a gruesome prospect.

Just then Florentina enters, having removed her silly, bobbing hat. Her bright blue eyes widen at the sight of the stained tablecloth.

"You silly tribute! Didn't you realize that this was the finest chantilly lace that District 8 has on offer? My emphasis, of course, being on the _was._ It'll take months to order some more!"

"Shut your gobbler, Levis!" Cassandra moans. "Give her a break! Take it out when I'm not here to hear your jabber."

Florentina seems momentarily stunned but returns Cassandra's remark with her own equally rude one. As the profanities fly, Corah and I excuse ourselves quietly. I pass Kosynne and his mentors in the hall. Apparently I've interrupted a conversation.

"-whatever you've got cause it'll be your only chance." one of them finishes. They all turn to stare at me. I slip past into my own compartment and curl up on the bed. After an hour of brooding on my own spiteful thoughts towards the Capitol, the door opens and Cassandra and Corah enter. Corah is holding several discs.

"There's a couple of videos we want you to watch." she says.

"Of what?" I ask.

"Some old Hunger Games." Cassandra replies, slotting the first disc into the huge screen that covers one side of my bedroom wall. I guess she and Florentina finally finished arguing. "Corah and I've done some research on you on the District 5 population database, and apparently, you're real smart, kid. Unbelievably smart."

I'm not sure what to say. I'm a bit disgruntled that they looked up my private details, to start. But what they do say has a grain of truth. I'm always top in the school and possibly the smartest kid in District 5. Not that anyone's ever noticed. So instead I just shrug.

"This is no time to be modest. If you've got strengths, we need to know about them.

"Well, yeah. Maybe I am." I mumble.

"Good. That's what we thought. These particular Hunger Games that we want you to watch should help you prepare. We thought they would be best suited to your skills." Corah encourages.

"The first one is my Games" grunts Cassandra.

Corah comes to sit next to me on my bed, but Cassandra chooses a fat armchair instead, tipping some golden brown liquid into her mouth occasionally. The film starts with Cassandra's Reaping. Even then she's really brawny, and easily overshadows the small thirteen-year-old boy who is called along with her. Then the tribute parade flashes by in which she's dressed as huge, neon atom that flashes a hundred different colors. Finally, training scores are announced, in which she's given a 10 and then the interviews. Her stylists have obviously tried to add femininity to her demeanour, but the frilly pink dress, layers of make-up and sleek hair do nothing to cover up her vicious and threatening presence. I bet even some of the Careers are intimidated by her. Finally the Games begin and Cassandra charges forward into the bloodbath, taking out two Careers and leaving with a huge pack and tent, an axe and a metal club. She has no trouble getting sponsors after that. Eventually, she runs into Blair, the girl from 10 and decides to ally her. Together they take down another two Careers while two more tributes die of exposure. Then in the night when there's only six left, Cassandra smashes her ally's head with the club.

At this point I'm trying to figure out why Cassandra wanted to show me the film at all. It's a complete shock to me and now I'm a bit scared of the huge, heartless monster in the armchair in my room.

The next day, another two tributes die at the hands of the Careers and the final showdown begins. Armed with her club and axe, Cassandra comes charging out from behind a huge boulder. She sends her axe flying into the stomach of the girl from 2 but takes a knife to the leg from the other career. Eventually, Cassandra manages to bowl over the girl from 4, and beats her skull into a pulp with the club. There's a long pause as the film ends and Cassandra finishes her bottle.

"So- what do you think we can take from this and apply to your strategy?"

"My strategy?"

"Yes, your strategy. We decided for you to go with non-confrontational and non-violent. You'll be hiding most of the time since you ain't really up to fighting. Plus you're smart enough to get food, water and shelter without sponsors" Cassandra explains. I think hard for a while. What could I apply to my own strategy?

"You killed your ally…" I mumble detachedly as my voice fades away.

"I was in a difficult position. It hurt me more than anything in the world to kill that little girl. Honestly, it's the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. So you ain't having allies. You don't need then. You won't need them. You don't want them. It'll just make your life more difficult. You're working alone, and at night too, I might add. Less likely that you're spotted."

I give a cold laugh. "Seems you've got my whole future planned out."

"You got that right, girl." Cassandra says. "Next video then, shall we?"

The next Hunger Games turns out to be Corah's. At the Tribute Parade she's dressed in singed power plant worker's clothes with her hair teased and tangled and charcoal smudged on her face to make it look as if she's been electrocuted. She's given a 6 in training, and her interview flashes by before the actual Games start. She runs away from the bloodbath immediately and proves to be very resourceful, gathering edible plants and making her own weapons like clubs and spears from rocks and wood. She and her district partner both make the top eight before he is hunted down and killed by the Careers. The Careers then fight it out among themselves until the boy from 2 emerges, pretty beaten up. Corah then lays a trap in which she creates a tripwire from some wire she stole from the Careers. The boy from 2 spies her and chases her down with his mace until he's tripped over and falls into a small pond filled with piranhas. Then Corah's announced the winner and the screen goes dark.

"You know what, I think that's enough for one day. This must be pretty overwhelming for you." Corah sighs. She sounds distressed and uncomfortable. "But I wanted to see how I outsmarted the Careers by waiting for them to take out themselves so I only had to fight one at the end. If you can outlast the others, you'll stand a chance."

I haven't realized how much time has passed, but now that I look out the window, I see that night is approaching quickly. My stomach rumbles in annoyance, so I escape to the dining cart to find Florentina filing her nails as she's watching some sort of Capitol show.

"Ah, Alyssa! I've been worried about you! Mentors working you hard, are they? I'm sorry, but you've missed dinner, you'll just share what's there with Koh-sin!" she gestures.

"It's Kosynne, actually." Kosynne corrects.

I thank her and take up a seat opposite him. We just ignore each other and eat in silence. I'm afraid this will become a regular thing between us. Pretending we don't exist. This time, all of the dishes have been uncovered and I'm overwhelmed by the amount of food sitting on the table. I help myself to several paper-thin slices of honey-roasted ham, cranberry sauce and a thick, creamy risotto with some sort of earthy, black fungus that I've never seen before.

"They're truffles! Aren't they marvellous?" Florentina announces after I ask her what they are. There are several foods that I don't recognise and I get the feeling that Florentina is enjoying showing off her knowledge about fine things.

"And you see, those little black balls are called caviar! We import them from District 4 so I'm assuming it must be some sort of seafood. Oh, and Alyssa, this is called a mango, you'll like it a lot, mark my words! It's simply divine as an ice-cream. Look Alyssa, they've even set out some chocolate!" she says, pointing to a large bowl of muddy brown glop that I'm very mistrusting of to start with. I sample it cautiously and decide that liquid sunshine must taste like this. However, I'm not sure how to eat it, so I just spoon it into a mug and end up drinking it.

Kosynne and I join Florentina on the soft, fuzzy sofa to watch the recap of the Reapings. My heart is thumping in worry. Both tributes from District 1 are volunteers, and I notice that the girl is unbelievably beautiful, with long blonde hair and large, green eyes. The boy from 2 is also a volunteer as well as brawny and muscular. The girl from 3 struggles to leave behind her family when she is reaped. Then me, laughing faintly at Kosynne's name pronounced incorrectly. Then there's two almost identical-looking girls from 6 & 7, a girl who's name is Demetria Roggen from District 9 who Kosynne very nicely points out looks very similar to me. I don't like it. It's suitable if you think about it. Demetria, derived from the Greek goddess of harvest and grain, Demeter.

Huh. I don't know why I remember that. Then there's a crippled boy from 10, a small, twelve-year-old girl from 11, and her huge, hulking district partner who reminds me of Cassandra. Finally, there's another twelve-year old from District 12. No, wait. Someone's volunteered for her, her sister, I think. What did her escort call her? Catnip? What a strange name. But I can't help but feel a twang of sadness towards Catnip. The girl who has to die to save her sister. If only I could have done that to save Volt. Finally, her partner is reaped and the recaps end.

"Oh, how delightful! I always love the reapings! You get to see all the tributes for the first time!" Florentina declares excitedly. She suddenly notices me clutching the half-empty mug of chocolate. "No! No! No!" she screams, causing me to jump in fright like when I was caught off guard when Cassandra and Corah came in to greet me. "You _never_ drink chocolate sauce! That's what hot chocolate is for! Here, have some marshmallows, you can dip those." I take the fluffy pink and white sponges out of her hand and dip them into my mug. Florentina is smiling encouragingly and nodding as I place the marshmallow into my mouth. "Yes, that's right! Simply mouth-watering aren't they?" I force myself to nod and smile. I don't know what I've just eaten, but it reminds me of the frilly pink dress that Cassandra wore for her interview. Silly, bland and girly. Plus, they've just ruined the flavour of the chocolate. "Would you like some hot chocolate, Koh-sin? I was just about to get some for Alyssa" she asks.

Kosynne sighs and rolls his eyes. "Kosynne." we both say at the same time.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Kosynne! I'm terrible with names! I must have embarrassed you greatly at the reaping! I do hope you'll forgive me." Florentina apologizes, blushing the same hot pink as her boa. She excuses herself and begins to pour some hot chocolate for us.

Two of Kosynne's mentors come in and slouch on the sofa. Currently, District 5 has five living victors. The other one died of cancer before I was born. We've been fortunate enough to have the most number of victors from any non-Career district. Six in total. Totally ridiculous. But, the Capitol relies on our industry heavily, and since our district is relatively small, we're fed pretty well. Yet everyone in District 5 has faced hunger pains of some sort in their life

"You must be Alyssa. Nice to meet you. I'm Spark, Kosynne's mentor." He reaches out his large grubby hand to shake mine. He's dead drunk.

I don't see either of my mentors at all that night and as Florentina serves us the warm, watery, pale brown liquid that I find thin and bland that she referred to as 'hot' chocolate, I begin to dread the upcoming week. I'm not feeling so good after all that food, so I say goodnight to Florentina and retire to my room.

I marvel at the softness of the bed, and the sheer size. I strip off my reaping dress and throw on some pale, silk pyjamas that have been laid out for me. I snuggle up in the covers and cry. I cry because I know that no matter what Cassandra or Corah or Florentina say, I will never come home.


	2. Day 2

**Day 2**

The next day I wake to find Levis thrusting open the curtains in my bedroom and jabbering on about how I've slept in and how I'm about to miss breakfast if I don't hurry up and that she shouldn't have to baby-sit me and how it's only another two hours until we arrive in the Capitol and I look ghastly because I haven't had a shower yet. She ushers me into the dining cart where Kosynne is slouching, equally flustered. I notice that Florentina has curled her lightning hair into tight, corkscrew curls that bounce. She's topped this with her peacock-flamingo feather hat from yesterday. Her dress is deep purple and bulges at her waist, giving her an unfortunate umbrella-like quality. I find the delicious beetroot broth again and settle down to eat that, but swap to a plateful of venison sausages and grilled tomatoes after the first bowl. Kosynne is also chewing as fast as he can, and I don't think it's because we're late.

After about half an hour, Florentina declares that it's time for us to shower so we can let our mentors eat. I return to my bedroom to shower. There's probably almost a thousand different knobs that range from water pressure to temperature to covering me in a minty oil that actually smells quite pleasant. There's also a button somewhere that creates rainbow-colored bubbles.

"We're not running a day spa here, so hurry up!" Florentina shrieks.

I feel like ripping out her lungs and nailing them to her forehead. After my shower, I'm blown dry by several fans on the wall and I change back into my reaping dress, ready to follow Florentina out the door. Instead she panics at the sight of my tangled hair, and works to comb it out, taking a good third of my already thinning hair out in the process

"You need to look presentable _for_ the Remake Centre!" she exclaims.

I'm not entirely sure about the logic behind that. The entire purpose of the Remake Centre is to make you look presentable. It's pretty self-explanatory. In the end, I'm ready to go and Florentina even has time to apply another layer of make-up before we disembark the train. As I follow Kosynne out the door, I spy my mentors out of the corner of my eye which cheers me up a little. They're looking more presentable than usual: Corah's twirled her lanky hair into an elegant bun and Cassandra's obviously showered because her hair is no longer greasy and oily. I'm showered with the flashing lights of cameras when I take my first step into the Capitol. People are screaming and I'm under the impression that I'm surrounded by rainbow-colored bubbles again; the way that people dress here is utterly ridiculous. Florentina scoots past me and leads our assembly down a long red carpet to the Remake Centre.

"I'll see you both tonight after the Tribute Parade." Florentina whispers and kisses Kosynne and me on the cheek. Two avoxes open the doors for us and we enter just as another train arrives at the station.

"Alyssa?" a high-pitched, nasaly voice calls. Three oddly deformed people come galloping towards me. "Hi! I'm Juno and this is Clemensia and Atticus! We're your prep team this year!"

"Hello" I reply.

Juno is even shorter than Corah, with hair that I can only describe as fluffy as clouds and pale pink in color. Her skin is the color of chocolate, and her eyes also very pale pink. She even has a couple of pink gemstones embedded into her skin around her eyes and on her perfectly manicured hands. Clemensia has six curly, lime green pigtails sticking from her head as well as buttercup-yellow eyes and teeth embedded with blue gemstones. Lastly, Atticus can only be described as a ladybug. He is enormously obese, with his bald head stained red and big, black spots printed all over his clothes. He even has antennae growing out of his head. And a pair of wings sewn to his back. They're so revolting that I want to gag.

"Come on then Alyssa, let's get started!" Clemensia giggles. They skip away, speaking so rapidly and with such a strong accent that I can't make out a single sentence. Finally, when I'm in my designated makeover station, they address me personally.

"We see this every year, _darling_, you tributes from District 5 really have the worst hair. It's all those nasty chemicals. We'll need to get some hair solution on that immediately." Atticus informs me. Juno helps me to undress and fits me in a simple shift. Then, Atticus lays me down on a table and wets my hair before massaging a smelly liquid into my hair that makes it feel as if it is being ripped from my scalp.

"Your legs are _really _hairy!" whines Juno in disgust. "This may sting a little so please don't whine!" She pours some hot liquid on my legs and smoothes it over before ripping it off. I grimace in pain. Clemensia comes over with a pair of tweezers and begins to pluck my eyebrows, frowning in concentration. I'm feeling pain all over. The three start gossiping inanely about a scandalous Capitol divorce from a famous trend-setter. I would tune out, but Juno starts to move from my legs upwards, to my waist, belly, breasts and it makes me uncomfortable. Soon I'm just lying there, naked. Atticus begins working on my nails, which he files and paints with a coat of glossy, clear polish. Then Clemensia makes me stand up so she can wax my armpits. Finally my back is shaven and my hair washed and Juno declares triumphantly that I'm ready to see my stylist.

The stylist for the female tribute from District 5 is Tiberius Tableturner. He's been here for about ten years, so he's pretty well known in the Capitol, at least. But everyone knows his greatest ambition is to style a Career. So I guess I'm not going to be exactly what he is drooling about. He'll be daydreaming about that girl from 1, the drop dead sexy one. My prep team leave and return a while later to escort Tiberius. He's changed dramatically since I saw him on TV last year. His hair is blond, but longer, it hangs to his shoulders and the end is dyed hot pink. Also, he looks more distorted than last year, his face more puffy and stretched as if it has been pumped up with plastic, which it probably has. He's very tall and wears simple, black clothing so that the dark tattoos around his eyes and silver lips are accentuated. He inspects me, his hands folded behind his back.

"You've applied hair-growing solution?" he demands, holding my hair and running his fingers through it.

"Personally." Atticus gushes.

"Well, you're not much, but I think I could work with you nicely, _Alysssssa_." he tells me. Even though my name sounds like a hiss every time Florentina, Juno, Clemensia or Atticus speak it, I'm unsure if Tiberius is enunciating my name like this on purpose to annoy me, or if it's just his natural speech pattern. Either way, I hate it. It makes me sound like a venomous snake. On the other hand, venomous snakes are to be feared.

"Well, your hair obviously isn't going to thicken up by tonight, so we'll need to go ahead with Plan B. Go and tell Dulcia, won't you, Juno?" Juno nods and bounces out of sight. I figure that Dulcia must be Kosynne's stylist. "Measure her up Clemensia. Atticus and I need to discuss make-up." Tiberius orders.

Clemensia smiles broadly, her sapphire-studded teeth twinkling in the artificial light. During our hour or so together, Clemensia actually turns out to be really sweet and nice, although doesn't talk a lot, which suits me.

"I used to have hair like yours." she tells me.

"Why did you dye it?" I ask. I've always been rather fond of my hair so it seemed stupid to me to alter it. Clemensia stops measuring for a moment and contemplates what I've just asked.

"I don't know. I was just used to everyone else doing it so I guess I just went along with it" she says finally. "So, you're five-foot five and 115 pounds? That would mean at least three inches shorter and two inches fewer around the waist." she mumbles to herself, changing the subject.

After all my measurements have been taken and Clemensia goes to inform Tiberius, Juno comes back and gives me another dose of the hair solution. Unlike Clemensia, Juno seems to never be able to close her mouth. She gossips on and on and I long for Clemensia's company. She rinses my hair again and allows me to join the others for a late lunch.

"Hello Alyssa. I've just spoken to Dulcia and we've decided to use Plan B." Tiberius greets. "Originally, we were going to have you wearing bolts of lightning threaded through your hair, but that isn't going to work, so instead, we'll be covering it up completely. You can come in, Atticus."

Atticus arrives carrying the most ghastly, vulgar and twinkly thing I have seen in my life. "I thought since District 5's industry is power, we were going to dress you as solar panels!"

It's baggy, shapeless and adorned with thousands of tiny mirrors that are held together like chain mail that reflects light in all directions whenever it moves. "Now, of course it's going to be too big for you but I'll have that fixed by tonight. I was also thinking of applying some slightly darker foundation, otherwise you'll look ghostly pale on the chariot. Now, have some marshmallows, they're exquisite."

That evening, I'm dressed in the awful, baggy costume with my hair hidden behind a large circular headdress of the same glittery material. My face has been plastered with tan paint that makes my skin look orange. Although Tiberius seems content, Clemensia quickly but sneakily wipes off as much as she dares and applies some deep red lipstick, dark eyeliner and mascara. I don't look nearly as bad as I did before.

"Thank you Clemensia." I sigh as I see myself in the mirror looking hgastly, but thankfully unrecognisable.

We're taken to the Avenue of the Tributes where I see Kosynne, dressed exactly like me. They've got make-up on him too. Dulcia, Kosynne's stylist adds finishing touches to his outfit and we're led onto our chariot, pulled by two stormy grey horses.

"Now, remember to smile and wave. Don't look so hostile, Alyssa. And Kosynne, don't slouch. Keep your back straight. Chin up, Alyssa. That's right. Try and move around a bit. It will help catch light every time you move and be very eye-catching!"

Clemensia gives me an encouraging smile before the doors open and the tributes from District 1 ride out as the anthem plays. The audience breaks into cheer. The rest of the chariots file out soon afterwards. I hear the crowd applause wildly when the District 4 tributes ride out. They've been dressed in some sort of shiny, plastic material that looks like light reflecting off shallow water. It billows out behind them to create waves as they speed along. Also, I can see little pearls dangling from the fabric and ornate headdresses to represent little bubbles or just to show the bounty of the sea. There's even starfish, shells and bits of seaweed dangling tastefully from the huge headdresses. They look stunning. Then it's our turn and we enter the Avenue of the Tributes. The crowd gasps and oohs over our shiny costumes, but I'm too petrified to do anything. I cautiously lift my hand and wave towards some of them nervously, trying not to show my mortification and hatred. They scream and point at me, so I quickly spin 180 degrees to face the other side. Another round of oohs and aahs echoes down the Avenue as the twinkly fabric shimmers in the fading light. Suddenly, there's another wave of cheer as the tributes from District 6 emerge. Great, for a moment I thought we actually had the audience's attention. But we're probably going to be passed over now. My face turns sour, but then I remember to smile, so I give a small, fake one. As we glide pass, the surge of confidence that I had gained as we emerged into the Avenue is slipping away. We're about halfway down when there's such a deafening uproar that I have to cover my ears. Two of the tributes must really be making an impression. I turn around to see who it is, but I can't because the tributes from 6 & 7 are blocking my view. People are chanting something. Something like 'Catnip'. I focus my gaze on some audience members. They're passing us by. Everyone is craning to get a view of the majestic tributes. I can tell by the looks on the District 4 tributes' faces that they're not happy about people stealing their show. As we reach the end of the Avenue, President Snow hushes the audience and gives us his traditional speech about how he thanks our courage, honor and sacrifice. Since our chariot is parked at the far right end, I can't see Catnip or her costume. Once the speech has finished, we're led to the exit and disembark the chariots. I can see Tiberius and Dulcia rushing towards us. I scowl at him. He ignores me and trots off to help Kosynne. My prep team leads me to the training centre elevator. I rip off my stupid headdress and toss it on the ground. Tiberius can find it later if he wants it.

"In you go!" Juno twitters. But I hesitate. The tributes from 1 & 4 are already in the elevator. I tentatively stumble in and wait for the doors to close.

"Aren't you going to press the 5?" the girl from 4 asks, smugly. The other Careers laugh and I blush. Kosynne quickly jabs the small 5 on the panel. The elevator doors are closing when a voice calls out to wait. The boy from 1 stick his foot in the door to keep it open. Then, the tributes from District 2 enter. It's really crowded in here by now, not to mention in the presence of six Careers. I'm inbetween the girl from 2 and Kosynne as the elevator begins to rise. All color drains from my face as we go up; I'm easily the smallest person here and the whoosh of the elevator makes me a bit nauseous. The sexy girl from 1 is looking at my face and snickering quietly. I turn and face the girl from 2. She notices me staring.

"What are you looking at, Foxface?" she barks. I shrink back while the others hoot and laugh. I feel hot tears springing to my eyes so in panic, I just face the ground while the tributes from 1 get out. But I'm so scared. Especially of the boy from 2. He looks as though he's itching to get his huge meaty hands around my neck. I glance up at him. Bad choice. He's staring at me so evilly and menacingly that I want to scream. It's only temporary relief when he and his partner exit. The girl from 4 is laughing silently and occasionally whispering 'Foxface' for her own amusement. Eventually they leave and the moment they do, I burst into tears. Kosynne looks taken aback and quite unsure of what to do. I continue to sob until we reach our floor. I stumble out into the small foyer and enter the grand living room. As soon I emerge I hear several voices exclaim in worry and shock to see me.

"What happened?" Florentina asks, her voice filled with worry and concern.

"One of the other girls called her something. Foxface, I think." Kosynne explains. Great. Just what I need is for my mentors to think I'm so delicate as to cry when someone calls me a name. The truth is that I'm crying because I'm tired, I'm still recovering from my fear at the Parade and that I had to share an elevator with the scariest kids I've seen in my life.

"Who did this?" Florentina gasps. "I'll have none of it! Orange skin is no reason to call someone a fox!"

"Doesn't matter." I say, regaining my composure with what dignity I have left.

"Come and sit down, Alyssa" Corah says warmly, taking my hand and leading me to an aquamarine sofa. She, Florentina, Cassandra, Spark and Kosynne's other mentor are sitting there. Some look perplexed, others sympathetic. The large screen that they're crowded around is playing the highlights of the Tribute Parade. I see myself as I'm giving my grouchy smile, but I'm lucky, as it comes across as looking sly and cunning rather than hostile and sullen. Cassandra seems to notice this as well because she taps me on the shoulder, whispers this into my ears and gives me a discreet thumbs up. I come to realize what all the fuss was about in the chariots behind me. As the tributes from 12 are revealed when the doors open, I gasp in awe. They're on fire. Not real fire, it must be some sort of synthetic look-alike. But it fills me with warmth, wonder and admiration. They're dressed in black unitards, with hairpieces and capes made of strands of fire-colored fabric. Best of all, the capes appear to be on fire and it creates waves of fire similar to those waves of water from the District 4 tributes.

I notice Florentina trying to hand me something. It's a mug of chocolate. Not the watery hot chocolate garbage, but the rich, creamy, smooth stuff that melts in your mouth. Florentina smiles sympathetically, and I know she's trying to make up for my bad time. She's really, honestly, truly trying to give me a good time while I'm here.

When the replays end, Florentina switches to her favorite programme that she refers to as a 'soap opera'. I finish the chocolate, thanking Florentina.

"Where could I find my room?" I ask.

"Oh, down the hall, upstairs and it's the door at the very back of the right corridor." she replies.

I follow her directions and enter my room, where I see some pyjamas have been laid out. I change into these and collapse on the huge bed. Before I know it, I'm crying again and I can't seem to stop it. It's really weird; I never, ever cry. But, when I have been known to, it all comes out at once, like when Volt died. I have a feeling that my week in the Capitol will be very teary indeed.

Someone knocks on the door and enters. I look to see who it is and find Corah with a steaming mug of something.

"Thanks, but I don't really feel like hot chocolate now" I mumble.

"It's not hot chocolate." she says. "It's chamomile tea". I take the mug from her and sip it. It has a faint trace of apple, but has a more bitter, spicy flavor to it that reminds me of a warm fire on a cold winters' night. Corah comes and sits next to me in a motherly way. I smell the morphling hanging around her.

"You wanna talk?" she asks delicately. I shake my head.

I don't know if it's the tea, the morphling residues or my own weariness, but in minutes I'm asleep in Corah's arms.


End file.
